


The pit of desire

by elveataur-writes (madswritings)



Category: The Raven (2012)
Genre: F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 11:42:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11850846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madswritings/pseuds/elveataur-writes
Summary: You meet a masked man in a ball and he captures your interest instantly.





	The pit of desire

**Author's Note:**

> This is a pseud for all my old works that were written on different blogs as I moved around Tumblr.  
> All works are not re-read or edited (and therefore are probably crap). I don't even have ALL my works anymore so this pseud is a storage account for the fics I still have.  
> My main writing account on Tumblr is now madswritings.tumblr.com

You enter the ball room feeling like a black sheep. You now are quite similar to that metaphor. Your black ball dress complimented by raven feathers is something unusual among colorful dresses and costumes. You have a black mask covering upper part of your face but you have no trouble seeing everything around you: powdered middle aged ladies who try to get attention of quite younger gentlemen while pretending to be younger than they are in truth. You see young ladies trying not to look easily impressed but everyone knows that’s not the truth. You see older gentlemen trying to get attention of those naïve ladies and some of them being quite successful. You didn’t want to attend this ball, but since your rank and social status requires you to do what you are expected to do - you came here, by now feeling tired already of this dance of macabre.  
Serving boy passes you but you grab one tall glass from his silver tray and sniff it before you take a sip. Even vine is too cheap for your taste. You frown but don’t put your glass away. At least it’s better than majority of these guests.  
“You dislike the taste of vine.” You hear by your ear and turn seeing man dressed in black. His mask is covering most of his face and you sigh not wanting to get any attention. But on the other hand – black in the colorful masquerade is quite an attention seeking action by itself.  
“It tastes horribly.” You admit and take another sip, fighting your urge to frown.  
“Let me help you out.” Your new companion takes glass from your hand and puts it away. From his cloak his pulls out a small silver flask, opens it and offers it to you.  
“What’s in it?” You ask.  
“Some brandy. Go ahead, I like to share.” You see a smile and you take his flask. You sniff it and taste, then frown despite every fiber in your body that tells you to remember your manners.  
“It’s like horse shit.” You mutter and man freezes, then starts laughing. When you hand him his flask he takes a sip and hides back into his cloak.  
“I didn’t expect such vulgarity from a lady like you.” He admits and you raise an eyebrow at him.  
“Vulgarity? I am not the one who brought a flash of a cheapest brandy into a ball.” You smile and it makes man laugh again. He takes off his mask for a moment and before he puts it back again you recognize him. “Poe.” You breathe out and he bows to you.  
“Alive and at your service.” He grimaces and you know that he’s teasing you.  
“I don’t know what services a penniless writer can offer.” You tease him back and you know that you hit him where it hurts.  
“Not every artist has money in their bank account despite their wishes.” He admits and you smile to him.  
“Indeed you are right, Mister Poe.”  
“Please, Edgar.” He gives you a smile and you nod.  
“Then in return you can call me Y/N, Edgar. Now tell me, what you are doing here? As far as I know you are not a very social drinker.”   
“I drink to become social.” He smiles to you, his eyes looking at you openly. “It treats my shyness.”  
Now you start laughing.  
“I never knew that you are shy, Edgar.”  
“Because I have enough brandy not to act like it.” He smirks and you chuckle.  
“Charming.” You say making him nod.  
“Thank you. It’s quite generous of you to think of me like this.”   
“Oh come on.” You wave your hand. “Enough with those word games. I have enough servants who kiss my ass daily.”  
“I suppose they are very happy.” Edgar raises his eyebrows and you start laughing.  
“Don’t imagine things that you shouldn’t.” You warn him, but Edgar only shrugs.  
“Writer’s imagination is a wild beast. It cannot be tamed, Y/N.” He says it in such tone that you feel how something starts heating your blood.  
“Very expressive.” You admit and he steps just a little bit closer to you.  
“I don’t want to offend, but we have a very big ears eavesdropping on us. I suggest we step somewhere more secluded if we want to continue our conversation.” He whispers but you are smart enough not to look around to see who’s listening at you two.  
“So you want to lure me into your trap like some characters in some of your stories, am I right, Edgar?” You tease him, making him smirk at you.  
“That’s completely wrong. I just like your company too much to be restricted by anyone listening to us.” He looks into your eyes and you smile.  
“I must admit that you peaked my interest. Lead and I will follow.”  
He nods, almost bows to you and turns walking in front of you, leading you away from the ball and people attending it. You glance back making sure that no one is following you, because you dislike when someone tries to put their nose into your matters.   
Soon music becomes just a noise somewhere far away and you find yourself standing in the hallway.  
“And where are we?” You ask looking around.  
“Just somewhere where no one will search for us.” Edgar smiles and you quirk an eyebrow at him.  
“This sounds almost inappropriate.” You smirk at him and he laughs silently.  
“Your imagination is quite as good as my own.” Edgar says making you step closer to him.  
“Don’t play your word games with me. I am a very proud woman, I won’t forgive you easily if you’ll insult me.” You look at him and Edgar raises his one hand, taking your mask off.  
“It was never my intention to insult you, Y/N.” He whispers while looking into your eyes and you stare at him for a moment, trying to figure out how to respond, but his gaze is so intense, it wipes every thought from your mind.  
“Why you are here, Edgar?” You whisper and slowly he takes his own mask off.  
“To meet you.”   
His fingers raise, lifting your face to him by your chin and he leans in, pressing his lips to yours. Carefully at first, waiting for a sign of you rejecting him, pushing him away, but you are not going to do that. Instead you step closer, close that space between your bodies and slide your palms against his chest and on his shoulders. Edgar deepens the kiss, makes it more passionate. With one kiss he consumes every thought in your mind, he takes your ability to think too, tossing it away. When he finally pulls back you find yourself panting. He looks into your eyes for a moment, catching his breath too.  
“Push me away because soon I won’t be able to control myself, Y/N.” He admits and you look at him for a moment, thinking if you should surrender to what you want most. “Please…”  
Instead of doing what Edgar wants you pull him by his neck closer and kiss him yourself. He responds immediately, with a passion you never experienced form any man before. He pushes you back, his hands on your waist until heels of your shoes knocks onto the wooden door.  
“Someone might come.” You whisper, feeling how heart is pounding in your chest.  
“Do you not know whose house it is?”  
“No.”   
“Then you’re lucky.” He flashes you a short smile before kissing you again. His hand finds a door handle behind you and you both stumble inside. Edgar pushes the door to close with his feet and starts pushing you backwards again, his hands wandering on your waist.   
You yelp when you bump into something and glance over your shoulder just to understand that that obstacle was a table. You quickly glance around understanding that this probably is a work room of this house’s owner.  
“Edgar-“  
He turns your face to him, his eyes lustfully exploring your eyes.  
“Don’t worry. He’s too busy trying to impress naïve girls with his riches which he doesn’t have. Or rather, that he has for now.”   
“But-“  
“Kiss me.” He whispers in a breathless voice. You swallow and close your eyes complying with what you both want.  
When you feel your knees going weak and Edgar breaks your kiss. He turns you around, making your back press against his chest. Fingers of his one hand start stroking naked skin above your breasts and his other starts lifting your skirts. You lean your head back, to see his face and he kisses you again, making you silently cry out when heat of Edgar’s palm starts burning your hip.  
“You are so beautiful. Like a thousand horrible nightmares decorated with millions of stars.” He whispers into your lips and you breathe out, letting his first hand slip onto your breast under your dress and his other hand slide down your undergarments.  
“Such a poet. You must be rich.” You tease because you don’t like to feel weak and that’s what he’s doing to you right now – making you weak, making you his. Edgar just smirks to you.  
“I am the richest man in the world right now.” He starts nibbling on your ear and you moan, shivering in his hands. Your knees get weak again and at the same time Edgar’s hand leaves your breast, travels on your lower back and makes you bend over the table.  
He leans to your ear, pushing your skirts higher, so he won’t have to keep them up anymore.  
“Just be quiet, my beautiful nightmare.” He whispers and you smirk, but bite down your lip, eager to feel him, eager for him to take you. You lower your head, leaning your forehead against the table top and he starts kissing your neck while both Edgar’s hands are working to expose his hard manhood.  
“You are crazy. I am crazy.” You admit and you feel him smile against your skin.  
“Isn’t this a beautiful thing to experience?” He asks and before you can answer he thrust into you, making you cry out loudly against your own wishes. “Shhh…” His fingers slips onto your lips and you take his index finger between your teeth with a grin. You know that he’s smiling too because he starts moving eagerly, harshly right from the start. You feel a lover in him, but right now he just listens to his wild side. Just like you are.  
Edgar’s one hand lands on your hip, giving him some support and when you let go of his finger you feel his other hand sliding back onto your breast, finding a nipple and rubbing it between pads of his fingers.  
“Oh lord-“ You hear him breathe out passionately and you grab onto the opposite edge of the table for support, feeling how his thrusts becomes quicker and quicker, driving you to the edge like no one before him. You bite down your lip once more, trying to remain silent, but you still moan in the back of your throat because you just can’t remain voiceless when Edgar changes his pace, it becomes abrupt, driven to reach the very peak of his pleasure.  
With few more pushes you let go and dive down your edge, trying to remain silent but your efforts fails miserably. You hear Edgar against your ear, grunting from pleasure when his own bliss overwhelms him. Finally he stops, almost collapses on your back while panting heavily. You too try to catch your breath before you move but Edgar is first. He leans back and helps you to do the same, turning you to him. You see his sweaty face and sparkling eyes from under his dark eyebrows.  
“We should return to the ball.” You whisper while sliding your palms on his shoulders and Edgar wraps his arms around your waist, making your lower belly bump into him.  
“Not before this.” He kisses you once more. You still feel that cheap brandy on his lips, but now it tastes so good.  
After all, coming to this ball wasn’t a waste – you think for yourself with a smile.


End file.
